Of Science and Sandwiches
by Rennwood Phoenix
Summary: Collection of mainly Fitzsimmons drabbles. Will include other characters! (*SPOILERS* for seasons 3 and 4) NO SLASH. NO SMUT. (Rated T to be safe) Enjoy!


**(A/N) Hi again! I got a prompt for "in the snow, Fitzsimmons drabble," so this happened! The second one I thought of since AoS is on hiatus right now until the 29** **th** **, so the feels were catching up to me. (Also it was inspired by that SDCC interview with Liz and Chloe where they mention Fitzsimmons babies…)**

 **I plan on posting a ton more AoS/Fitzsimmons drabbles or character studies or ficlets, etc. I love getting prompts and reviews! They fuel my writing!**

 **Thanks, lovelies!**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **In the Snow**

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There was something absolutely entrancing about snow… the way it glinted and sparkled in the sunlight, the way it clung to every surface and flickered onto one's eyelashes… the way it–

"Ouch!" Jemma gasped as a hard ball of packed ice pelted her directly in-between her shoulder blades. "Fitz!"

A gleeful (and not at _all_ apologetic) laugh sounded from behind her

As she whirled around to face her attacker, her foot caught on a hidden root and all of a sudden the ground came up to meet her… But right before it reached her face, two hands caught her by the shoulders.

It would have been quite a heroic act if Fitz had not been taken by surprise and completely lost his balance, too, resulting in a very ungraceful fall from grace, if you will.

"Ugh, sorry, Jemma," Fitz muttered as he tried to stand up again, but only managed to dig his way deeper into the two-foot-high snow.

Light giggling reached his ears, though muffled by the scarf wrapped snugly around Jemma's face. She giggled harder, the chuckles turning into full-blown laughs.

Simply the sound of her laughter brought a smile to Fitz's lips, but he played it off with, "This is not funny, Jemma. We could have died."

This only made Simmons laugh that much harder. "H-h-how?!" She chortled, "By shock?" Continuing to laugh at her own joke, she rolled to her back and grabbed Fitz's hand. "You can't…" more laughter… "…DIE by falling into…" chuckles… "…the SNOW!"

"Yes you can, if you fall from high enough." Fitz tried valiantly to stop his own laughter before it escaped, but to no avail.

"Fitz," she had to pause for a full thirty seconds before continuing, "I'm so short…" paused to giggle… "…I couldn't die by impact if I tried."

"You're not _that_ short," he insisted, unable to contain his chuckles any longer.

They lay there, grasping each other's hands as their laughter subsided, staring up into the endless blue sky, not needing to worry about Hive or Hydra anymore…. just basking in each other's presence.

…But it wouldn't be a snow day without at least one more snowball, Fitz reasoned. It simply had to be done.

"Ugh, Fitz!"

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 **Little Monkey(s)**

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"…And she likes her tea with only a bit of milk, and Jemma, please try to act like you're interested when she talks about her cooking, and–"

"Fitz." Jemma interrupted, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, unable to keep her amused grin at bay. "I've known your mother for nearly thirteen years. I'll be fine."

His mouth turned up in an embarrassed smile. "Yeah, well. I guess I'm just excited to see her again." He met her eyes for a moment, then turned back to the road, his fingers relaxing their death grip on the steering wheel.

Jemma rubbed his shoulder and smiled to herself. Fitz hadn't seen his mother since directly after he woke up from his coma, and though they had kept in touch since the Hive fiasco, it wasn't the same as seeing her face-to-face.

"What do you think she'll say?"

Jemma looked up in surprise. "To what?"

"Well, everything, I suppose." His eyebrows drew together. "She knows we're…" he waved a hand back and forth between the two of them. "But does she know about the…?" He motioned the general area of Jemma's midsection.

She grinned even wider. "You asked me not to tell her, Fitz. I try not to break promises."

"Hah." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Thanks… I guess." His knuckles turned white again. "What do you think she'll say?"

Simmons fixed him with a disbelieving stare. "Leopold Fitz, do you honestly believe she would disapprove of having grandchildren?"

"Grand _child_ , technically."

"You don't know that."

"You hope it's twins?" Fitz wondered, one eyebrow raised.

"I don't know… I think it could be fun."

"But, Jemma…" he muttered in terror. "Imagine all the nappies…"

This time Simmons couldn't hold back the laugh that slipped through her lips. "Fitz," she giggled, "I think we can handle the nappies. Or would you rather have less dirty nappies than two children?"

His brow finally relaxed completely, and a huge grin broke out on his face. "I s'pose that is sort of ridiculous."

A silent moment passed.

"But honesty…" Jemma shifted in her seat to stare out at the vast, beautiful Scottish countryside rolling by, trying to suppress the doubts in her mind. "Do you think your mother will approve?"

Fitz's hand caught hers, and he ran his thumb over her knuckles. "Jemma, as you said, she would never pass up the chance to have grandchildren. Who else would she have to spoil?"

Jemma chuckled. "But," she stated firmly, "there shall be no spoiling of _my_ child. She will be raised sensibly."

"She?" Fitz asked with a grin. "You're hoping for a girl?"

"I don't know, I think I would love either."

"But you've always referred to it as 'she,'" he observed.

"Call it a mother's intuition," Jemma grinned.

"Sounds good to me."

She leaned her head on the cool window and gazed up at Fitz's profile. She secretly hoped their child would have his curly hair and blue eyes and wacky sense of humor.

"Just one thing," she said with an air of finality.

"Hm?"

"If it's a girl, we're calling her Margaret."

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 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **(Send me prompts and reviews! They fuel my writing! 3 )**


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